Across town, tucked behind a screen of overgrown ivy and aging brickwork, sat the modest residence of Professor Julian, Adams and Gadhi Lauren. Inside, the atmosphere was a stark, almost absurd contrast to the high-stakes shadow war grinding through the city's underbelly.
Gadhi lounged back on the worn leather sofa in a loose, faded crewneck and oversized grey trousers, a heavy ceramic bowl of sugary cereal balanced comfortably on her knee. Across the room, Julian and Adams sat opposite each other at the small wooden dining table, both absentmindedly reaching into their own family-sized bags of potato chips, the rhythmic, noisy crunching filling the quiet room.
They were mid-sentence, debating the atmospheric readings from the lower district, when a small, polished brass cylinder resting on the center of the dining table gave two sharp, metallic rings.
The device flickered to life. A pale, cobalt-blue light shot upward toward the ceiling, fanning out into a sophisticated, multi-paneled holographic projection. Seven distinct silhouettes materialized in the air—a secure, long-distance round table of regional heads and shadow brokers.
Among the projected figures sat Mama Mia, her frail blind eyes; Athalia with her long dark hair mixed with a little bit of red braids, Julius, adjusting his cuffs; Crook, leaning back in a dark leather armchair with a half-empty glass; the word Vince Duchy was distinctly frayed at the edges; and two shadowy, unlisted figures hovering quietly in the background.
"Right then," Adams began, dusting salt off his thumbs as he leaned into the light of the projection. "Appreciate everyone making the jump on short notice. We've got a rather intriguing development out of the central clinic, and frankly, it throws a proper spanner into our local projections."
"Keep it brief, Adams," Crook drawled through the speaker, his accent thick and dry as he swirled his glass. "Some of us are operating on a rather delicate schedule."
"Detective Quive," Adams said plainly, leaning forward. "Shot point-blank through the temple, severe corneal destruction, brain stem trauma. By every metric of medical science—modern or baseline—the man was entirely dead on arrival. Yet, as of three hours ago, he walked out of the surgical suite entirely restored. Perfect visual acuity, faded scar tissue and suspected accelerated neural reflexes."
A heavy beat of silence washed through the holographic array before Mama Mia tilted her head, her sharp, cultured British cadence through the static.
"Restored?" Mama Mia echoed softly, a slight arch to her brow.
"Unlike mere cellular regeneration, It sounds suspiciously like those experimental batch reports coming out of the Manhattan sector a few months back."
"Precisely my thought," Julius chimed in, crossing his arms. "The New York street distribution—the 'Lazarus' compounds Detroit was quietly testing on unmodified subjects. The side-effects were ghastly, but the primary trial groups showed localized cellular reversal right before the secondary organ collapse set in."
"If Grishile is fielding an active, stable strain of Maru's serum in one of our turf," Athalia added, her voice downed to a sluggish pace and murmur, "then Quive is likely not just a survivor. Rather it's more like he is an active test bed sitting right on their radar."
One of the dark silhouette, Lord Elias, scowled from his corner of the projection under the blue light. "If Maru's team is handing out biological miracles to precinct detectives without clearing it through the regional board, then Detroit is already rewriting their contract behind our backs."
From the sofa, Gadhi swallowed a mouthful of cereal, her eyes glued to the flickering holographic figures as the debate over Quive's miraculous recovery began to heat up.
"It's not like that's news, I mean they've been going after Mace agents whose identity were exposed". Julian added.
Gadhi set her cereal bowl down on the coffee table with a shallow clatter, pulling her legs up onto the cushion. "It's not just Quive we need to be worried about," she said, her voice through the hum of the projection. "Those kids—Ryan, Claire, Rein, and the rest—have already run into Bill Curt, you know from Grishile, ...twice. The man is completely off his rocker, indiscriminately testing unverified serum batches on civilians right out of his basement, and he still has the unmitigated gall to stroll through the clinic precinct like a respectable business owner."
"They're young, Gadhi, but they aren't fragile," Adams noted, dusting another chip from his fingers.
"Though I admit, facing a rogue operator who doesn't abide by standard containment protocol is a nasty trial by fire."
"Bill relies on terror and spatial traps," Crook remarked, leaning forward into his feed.
"If the kids keep their distance and force him into the open, his leverage vanishes. But if they try to corner him in his own burrows, he'll butcher them before they cross the threshold."
"Which brings us to the second complication," Julian interjected smoothly from the table. "MACE Ops has boots on the ground. Two operatives—Scarlet and Rose—had a direct engagement with Ryan and Holly. They clearly recognized Ryan, though their primary objective remains opaque. What's far more troubling, however, is what Rose slipped into Ryan's head during the altercation."
Julian paused, letting the silence stretch before dropping the anvil. "She claimed Klaus wasn't taken by force—that he defected voluntarily to Maru's lab years ago."
At the mention of Klaus, the second silhouette posture went entirely rigid. He shifted in his seat, his jaw tight, opting to say absolutely nothing as his eyes darted away from the primary feed.
"Fascinating," Crook purred, his sharp gaze immediately locking onto the screen in a tell-tale silence. "Mama mia, you look remarkably unbothered by that little revelation. Almost as if you knew that regional grid had leakings from the top down. Or perhaps you were too distracted by the mess in the lower district—like losing Oscar?"
"Watch your tongue, Crook," the silhouette face finally came half to light revealing a woman's facial feature, her face flushing dark with sudden fury under the blue light.
"Oscar's situation was an operational anomaly!"
"An anomaly?!" Julius countered, his voice rising sharply over the link.
"You let a primary asset get scrubbed on your own turf! You've lost control of Bill Curt, you're letting MACE parade through the central district, and now you want us to believe you had no idea about Klaus?!"
Within seconds, the holographic conference devolved into absolute chaos. Voices overlapped in a chorus of sharp accusations, heated retorts, and threats, with the unknown guest, Crook, and Julius barking across the secure lines like hungry hounds over a bone.
Suddenly, Mama Mia raised a single, gloved hand.
She didn't shout. She didn't raise her voice. But the moment her fingers moved, the barking instantly died down. A heavy, absolute silence fell over the room and the projection alike. Not a single regional head or shadow broker dared to cut across her airtime.
"Enough of this uncivilized noise," Mama Mia said softly, her refined British accent icy with no hesitation.
"How barbaric young people have become in their words, this is a meeting with a course not for discord. Mia you've grown soft" Lord Elias laughed.
"My apologies for this embarrassing sight Lord Elias, We do not squander secure bandwidth on petty squabbles."
She adjusted her silver glasses, sweeping her gaze over each projected face. "Regarding Bill Curt and the children: we do not intervene directly yet. The kids must adapt to the pressure; it is the only way their latent traits will stabilize under stress. However, we will restrict Bill's supply lines. If he cannot procure raw materials, his five-day cycle collapses on its own."
She turned her eyes toward Crook.
"Crook. You will cease probing Vince Duchy's backyard and focus entirely on your primary assignment. I want Ian located before the last moon of the month is out. No excuses."
Crook bowed his head slightly. "Understood, Ma Mia."
"Also tell Vincent," she continued, her voice leaving no room for negotiation. "You will remain stationed precisely where you are near Nuuk. Do not take another step toward the central grid until Detroit's audit is complete."
The dark silhouette clenched her jaw, swallowing his pride. "Understood."
Finally, Julius cleared his throat, taking advantage of the quiet. "And what of the vampires in the upper sector? Have there been any updates regarding their movements around the Huntington Centre?"
"They remain quiet for now, observing the board just as we are," Mama Mia replied simply, before reaching forward toward her terminal. "This meeting is concluded." She added and Elias laughed.
The projection flickered once, and the seven blue figures vanished into thin air, leaving the brass cylinder cold and silent on the dining table.